Shadowed

  Chalton growled. “Is he dead?”

  “Unfortunately.” Jase hadn’t intended to kill him, but the guy was stubborn.

  “Did he give you the information you wanted?”

  “Yes.” The prisoner had finally given up the demon stronghold in Nevada, but he hadn’t been able to confirm how long the leaders would be on site. Most would be leaving within the day, apparently. Time was too short. “I’ll send word back in a couple of hours for somebody to release you.”

  “I’m going to kick your ass, Kayrs,” Chalton growled.

  “You’re probably gonna have to stand in line.” Jase exited the room, shutting the door tight. Chances weren’t great he’d return from the demon stronghold, but at least he’d take out the leaders there. The demon he’d tortured had confirmed that the demons had plans to attack the vampires on the solstice.

  So was the dream a coincidence or some odd vision? Chances were a coincidence. Visions had never plagued Jase, unlike nightmares. Those would always find him.

  The moon was dropping low in the sky, and soon dawn would arrive. He’d be on his way before then but first needed supplies and fresh clothes.

  Opening his front door, he stopped short at the sight of Brenna sitting in the moonlight with a sketchbook in her hands. Several drawings surrounded the spot where she sat on the floor near the open wall.

  She looked up, shock filling her face as she scrambled toward him. “Is that your blood?”

  “No.” Heat filled his lungs—an odd sort of panic. “I’m fine.”

  She frowned and fingered his wet sleeve. “I don’t understand.”

  He pulled his arm away, not wanting demon blood to touch her. “Why are you up?”

  She stepped back. “I woke up and you weren’t there. Where were you?”

  He shrugged and avoided her gaze. “I have work to do, but I’ll be home later.” Turning, he headed for the armory off the kitchen to change.

  She followed him. “Jase, what’s going on?”

  “Nothing.” Why did she have to be awake, damn it? “Everything is fine. Go back to sleep, and we’ll celebrate your birthday later.”

  She ignored his offering and grabbed his arm. “Did you torture that demon?”

  He shook her off and yanked the bloody clothes off his body. “I did my job. You knew it wasn’t pretty.” Grabbing combat gear, he quickly suited up.

  Brenna lifted her chin. “You’re going after the demons.”

  “Yes.”

  “By yourself?” she asked, edging toward the door.

  He grabbed her shoulder. “Yes.” Lowering his head toward hers, he gave her his fiercest expression. “You’re not to call anybody. Understand?”

  Fire flashed into her eyes. “Aye, I understand. I’m to let you go off on your suicide mission without lifting a finger.”

  “Yes.” He tugged a bulletproof vest over his head.

  She wrapped her arms around her waist, hugging herself. “What about the solstice tonight?”

  He paused. “I’ll be back.”

  “If you’re not?”

  “Then Moira and Conn will help you.” The disappointment in her eyes cut through his heart like a sharpened blade.

  “I need you.”

  The words slashed deeper than her expression.

  “I’m sorry, Bren.” And he was—with everything in him. But this was his last chance to get Suri and Malco before they disappeared again. “Please understand.”

  “I do. I fully understand.” She turned and headed into the kitchen. “I’m going home. Don’t try to contact me again.”

  He stood in the armory, indecision halting his movements. For years he’d dreamed of this moment, he’d planned for it. Not even for Brenna could he give up his need for revenge. “I’m sorry.”

  “Me, too,” she whispered, slowly moving out of sight. Out of his life.

  He turned and grabbed another knife, shoving all emotion away. If he survived, he’d bring her back.

  Doubt filtered through him, and he shook it off. One battle at a time. For now, he needed to grab the Degoller Stars from his gym. It was way too late to fight fair. Slipping out the door, he ran under the cover of darkness to his gym.

  Stepping inside, he stopped short at the sight of Dage leaning against a far wall. Rage had lit the king’s eyes a vibrant blue, cutting hard lines in the sides of his mouth.

  Jase swallowed, his anger rising. “Chalton freed himself.”

  “Yes.” Dage twirled a star in his hand. “You killed the demon.”

  “I plan to kill several more.” Jase eyed the two remaining stars on the top shelf.

  His older brother waved a hand, and locks engaged on the large door. “I don’t think so.”

  Temper heated Jase’s lungs, even as he measured the holes in the metal from Brenna’s fireballs. Not one was big enough for him to jump through. “Unlock the doors.”

  “Fuck you, Jase.” Dage threw the star, and the weapon stuck in the far wall.

  A roaring filled Jase’s ears. “Fuck you, King.”

  “Ah, there’s the anger I’ve been looking for.” Dage angled closer, his voice softening to a deadly tone. “No more brave stoicism, huh?”

  Jase’s fingers clenched his hands into fists. “You don’t want to do this.”

  “Oh, but I do.” The king stepped close enough to hit. “Let’s talk about that anger, shall we?”

  “I’m angry at the demons, which is why I have to go. Now.” Panic had Jase stepping back.

  “No, you’re mad at me. It’s time for you to stop being such a chicken-shit and deal with it.” Dage angled to the side, effectively blocking Jase’s way to the exit.

  “I’m not mad at you.”

  “Well, I’m pissed as hell at you.” The smile the king flashed lacked humor.

  “I know. I’ve been a pain since I got back, and as soon as I take care of the demons, I’ll work on the attitude.” Jase tried to shove down the anger, but fury rose up like furious insects finding a hole in the surface.

  “No. I’m pissed because I spent half my life training you, and you failed. You allowed the fucking demons to capture you, and then you let them almost break you.” Fire crackled along the king’s arms.

  “What?” Jase stepped back, the sense of betrayal chilling him. “You think this is my fault?”

  “Hell, yes.”

  Jase saw red. He jumped for the king, slamming him to the ground, not even registering the relief sliding across Dage’s face.

  He punched with full strength into Dage’s jaw, trying to reach the floor.

  Dage’s head slammed against the concrete, and he reared up, throwing Jase into the door.

  Pain lanced down his spine. He came out swinging, going for blood.

  Dage caught him with an uppercut, not holding back. Jase flew back into the wall, knocking the stars to the ground. His vision wavered. In his entire life, Dage had never tried to hurt him.

  Until now.

  “This is your fault, King,” Jase growled, circling his brother, fury burning him from the inside. “You sent me to fight as a kid, and then sent me to the demons. You’re more king than brother.” He swept out a foot and nailed Dage’s knee.

  Dage pivoted, swinging wide to break Jase’s ribs. “I thought you could handle it. I was wrong.”

  Jase punched Dage’s sternum, satisfaction lifting his chin when bones shattered. “I handled it.”

  The king’s fangs dropped low. “Bullshit. I should’ve sent one of the women.” He kicked Jase square in the jaw, sending his head crashing back.

  Jase growled and lost all control, arms swinging.

  Dage met each hit, each kick, with one of his own.

  Heavy fists pounded on the door.

  They ignored them, both looking to draw blood.

  All of the rage, shame, and fear Jase had been living with rolled through him, strengthening his hits. The agony flowed out of him inch by inch. Blood sprayed, bones shattered, and emotions ruled.

/>   The pounding on the door got louder, and a drill sprang into action.

  An hour passed. They both fought as if they had nothing left. Finally, Jase knocked his bloodied brother to his knees. Gravity yanked him right down, and he kept going until he lay prone. Blood poured from his body in several places.

  He coughed up blood. The ball of fire that had been living in him disintegrated. Gone for good.

  Dage slid onto his back, his broken bones rattling. “Feel better?”

  Jase tried to see out of his swollen eyes. “Yeah. You?”

  “Much.” Dage wheezed out air.

  Jase didn’t know what organ to heal first. “Are we going to be all right?”

  “Yes. Of course. We just needed to exorcise the demons. Ha-ha.” Dage coughed, the sound echoing like death. “Are we all right?”

  “Yes—we’ve always been all right. I’ve just been angry.” So angry sometimes he couldn’t even think.

  “That’s what I figured.” Dage groaned. “You blew up my spleen.”

  “Sorry.” Jase’s lung collapsed. “Ow.”

  “Tell me now. Everything,” the king wheezed, the drill continuing outside.

  So he did. Lying in blood next to his damaged brother, Jase let loose the truth. His fears, his pain, his guilt.

  Dage listened quietly until he wound down. “I missed you.”

  Jase sighed. “I missed you, too.”

  The door flew open. Talen, Kane, and Conn ran inside, panic on their faces.

  Dage chuckled and then groaned. “Our rescuers.”

  Jase opened one eye. “The see, hear, and speak monkeys.” His laugh made him groan with agony.

  Kane dropped between the two, his fangs slashing into his wrist before he stuck it to Jase’s mouth. Talen did the same with Dage.

  “I’ll get Max. We need more blood,” Conn said, turning and running from the building.

  Kane’s blood exploded down Jase’s throat. “What the hell?”

  Jase swallowed. “We had a disagreement.”

  Kane lifted one eyebrow. “Is it settled?”

  Jase exhaled. “Yeah. It’s settled.” And it was. For the first time since being rescued, he felt whole. He turned his head to view his battered and bruised older brother.

  Then he smiled.

  Chapter 27

  Brenna punched in keys on her laptop, muttering to herself. She’d only been gone a few days, and already the Dublin economic plan needed tweaking. The plane banked to the left, and she took a moment to say good-bye to the life she might’ve had.

  “See ya, asshole,” she said into the clouds. Within thirty minutes of Jase’s heading off on his suicide mission, she’d packed and secured a plane ride home. Small private plane with six empty rows and a bedroom in the back. Being one of the Coven Nine often had its perks.

  “Asshole,” she muttered again. “Trust me, Brenna.” He’d whispered the words, and she’d believed them. Aye, her heart freakin’ ached. A real, deep-in-the-chest hurt. She’d known better than to fall for him. Two hours into the flight, and she wanted to cry, but Jase Kayrs didn’t deserve her tears.

  Green danced along her arms, and she ruthlessly shoved it back. Setting the plane on fire would be disastrous.

  Even now, as the solstice neared, energy heated her blood.

  Power. Untapped and absolute.

  She’d reach home just in time to watch night arrive. She fingered the pendant around her neck with its dangerous bug. Midnight was her hour, and she’d be ready. At that time, she’d cure Virus-27.

  A scrape sounded from behind her. She stiffened. The two pilots were in the cockpit, and she was the only person on the plane.

  Something shuffled.

  Reaching for a knife in her laptop case, she slowly stood and turned.

  Jane Kayrs slid outside the bedroom, one eyebrow raised. “You going to stab me?”

  Brenna slid the knife back into the bag and eyed the young woman. “What are you doing here?”

  Janie tugged down her sweater and moved to sit in the chair facing Brenna’s. “They took the guards off me since Garrett is home, and this was my only chance to get free.” Wise blue eyes twinkled. “I thought we’d make a break for it together.”

  Brenna shook her head. “You’re in danger, and you know it.”

  “I’m always in danger,” Janie said softly. “It’s my job to end this war, and I can’t do that under the heavy mantle of security. Surely you understand.”

  Janie had the petite, fit frame of a normal twenty-four-year-old woman, and the stunning eyes of a centuries-old soul.

  Brenna sighed. “What’s your plan?”

  “I’ve been having constant visions regarding the Prophecies of Arias, and the current war. I need to read that book.” She paled even more. “Something is in there, but I don’t know what.”

  Brenna patted her hand. “I’ll see what I can do, but if the book exists, no non-witch has ever seen it.”

  “Understood. Plus, I need to meet Zane in person and try to talk him into ending this war. My visions have always shown the moment to come down to us and Kalin, and it’s time.” Janie slid her hands down her frayed jeans. “It is so time.”

  Brenna recognized love when she saw it. Why did the sensation have to hurt so much? “You don’t even know who or what Zane is. What makes you think he’s one of the good guys?”

  “He saved Garrett, didn’t he? That goes a long way to convincing me we’re on the same side.”

  “Doesn’t mean you won’t get your heart broken.”

  “Like you did?” Janie sighed. “Uncle Jase is confused, but I can tell he loves you.”

  Brenna rolled her eyes. “He’s not confused, he’s just obsessed. So you think I should’ve stayed?”

  “Hell, no.” Janie grinned. “You have to stand up to those vampires, or you’ll never get anywhere. You made the right move.”

  “I didn’t leave for a move.” Brenna shook her head. “I left for good.”

  “If you say so.” Janie leaned back. “You know he’ll come after you.”

  Would he? If he did, what then? More empty promises? “I don’t think so, Jane.” Brenna glanced at her watch. “Great timing on revealing yourself. If we head back now, I won’t arrive home in time to prepare for the solstice.”

  “That was the goal.” Janie reached to open the refrigerator and drew out a beer. “I’ll contact Zane when we’re closer to Ireland and come up with a plan.”

  The woman was crazy. “You don’t think I’m going to let you meet with Zane, do you?”

  Janie smiled again. “Yes, I do. By the way, happy birthday.”

  Brenna snorted. “Thanks so much.”

  Janie frowned, dropping the unopened can. “Something’s happening.”

  The urgency in her tone made Brenna sit up straight. “What’s happening?”

  An object clipped the left wing, and the plane rocked. Fire danced along the metal. Another explosion echoed from the right wing.

  Panic curled Brenna’s hands around the armrest. “Secure your seat belt.” She slid her belt into the buckle as Janie did the same. An alarm blared through the cabin.

  The pilot shoved open the cockpit door. “We’ve been hit. Brace yourselves for impact, because we’re going down.”

  “When you call in, let them know Janet Kayrs is on board.” Brenna shoved down panic as the plane dropped several yards. Her stomach rose to her throat. She grabbed the knife from the bag and tossed it to Janie. “Be ready when we land.”

  Janie caught the handle and nodded, her eyes wide.

  Brenna opened another compartment and drew out a gun. The plane twisted, and she bashed into the window. “Where are we?” she yelled over the alarm.

  “Over the Mexico desert,” the head pilot bellowed back.

  Brenna clutched the gun, keeping the barrel pointed away from Janie. “Who’s in the desert?”

  Janie’s hands turned white on her jeans. “Well, it’s probably too hot and sunny for Kurja
ns, and most shifters like the cold, same with vampires.”

  Brenna nodded, her mind spinning. “That leaves witches and demons. Could be either.” Had she been stupid to disregard the CRAP group? They’d been organizing for years—maybe they had a presence all over the world. Of course, maybe the Kurjans did have a presence in the desert. She turned toward the front. “Are you two armed?”

  “Of course,” the pilot yelled. “Get ready to hit.”

  Outside the window, the red of the desert grew larger and closer.

  “I’m going to put down as close to the rock formations as possible,” the pilot yelled over the alarm. “Head for shelter.” He slammed the door shut.

  “If we survive,” Janie muttered, her face devoid of color. She reached out to hold Brenna’s hand. “Is the safety on the gun?”

  “Yes.” Brenna tightened her hold.

  The plane tilted, and she bit back a scream.

  The refrigerator opened, and drinks spilled out. A beer bottle shattered, sending liquid spraying.

  Brenna eyed Janie, her stomach tightening. The woman was human and wouldn’t survive most injuries a witch could heal from. “Janie, press your cheek against your knees.” Maybe there was some way Brenna could shield Janie from injury. At least she could block her niece from any projectiles.

  Janie nodded and dropped into the crash position.

  The alarm suddenly cut off. Instant silence filled the cabin. The first bump was gentle, and Brenna began to relax.

  Then the plane slid sideways, spinning around. She screamed, dropping her face to her legs. Janie’s hand tightened on hers. Momentum slapped her cheek against the armrest.

  Something exploded outside, and heat flared through the cabin. Oh God, Oh, God, Oh God.

  Metal cracked, thundering in protest. The plane rocked, lifting up and slamming back down. A bottle hit Brenna in the arm, slicing her skin. Unfastening her seat belt, she moved to cover Janie from harm.

  The plane pitched, and she flew into the woman. The chair ripped from the floor, sending them flying into the door of the cockpit. They hit the ground with a loud thump.

  Then everything stopped. No sound, no movement . . . only the smell of smoke. Brenna lifted herself off Janie, running her hands along her niece’s limbs. “Are you all right?”